Chicks Before Dicks

Bella Swan glanced up from her lunch and nearly choked on her lemonade. What in the world was he doing here?

She stood up and made her way across the room, weaving among the tables. Plunking herself down in the seat across from his, she asked, "What do you think you're doing?"

The copper-haired man looked up, his fork stopping halfway to his mouth. "I'm...eating lunch," he replied slowly, as if that should be obvious.

She rolled her eyes. "Sure, but why are you eating it here?"

"Because I work here," he said in that same tone, with a touch of affront in his voice.

"Since when?"

"Since the beginning of the school year." He put down his fork and stuck out his hand. "Professor Edward Masen. And who might you be?"

She looked at him a little closer. His face was a little thinner, his hair a little shorter, and the topaz eyes were noticeably absent. Still, the resemblance to Edward Cullen was downright eerie. A little flustered, she shook his warm hand. "Bella Swan. I'm sorry, Professor. I thought you were someone else."

"I was hoping that might be the case. Most students wait for their grades before attacking me."

She flushed slightly. "I don't suppose you'd believe that English is my second language and that I really meant to say something completely different?"

He shook his head.

"I didn't think so. It's just that I know most of the professors here..."

"...and you didn't think I was one of them. It's understandable, this is my first year here."

"Welcome to St. Helen's, then." She stood up. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go make an ass of myself somewhere else."

He laughed. As she walked away, he called after her, "Bella Swan!" When she looked back, he asked, "Just who did you think I was?"

"No one you'd ever want to meet."